Pages

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Remember Remember the 5th of November

I didn’t believe my dad when he told me everything was getting ready to go into the toilet.

I mean for years he had been talking about how what the government was doing was illegal and how our “Rights”, you could hear the capitol letter when he said it, were being eaten by the bureaucrats and the politicians.

When it all happened, I didn’t believe it.  Governor Williams was ahead in the polls for November and it looked like he would win over Senator Faurren, as dad called her.  But dad always had his scanners on, and was reading all of those right wing crazy websites.  When dad told me that he was going to be out at his property in Terlingua until after the inauguration for safety, I thought he was nuts.  He asked my sister and I to come out there as well.  But who wants to be out in the desert in the middle of winter?  Especially as I couldn’t afford to miss any work, and Sarah didn’t want miss the fall and spring semester and she and her boyfriend looked like they were getting serious.

We all thought dad was insane.  I mean I love my dad, but some of the things he said was going to possibly happen were straight out crazy.

“There was going to be a terrorist attack before the election and the President would use that to suspend the elections”  “The President was going to declare Martial Law.”  Stuff like that.  I mean it sounded crazy then.

But November 2nd, 2016, terrorists did attack.  On November 5th, the President DID suspend the elections, on November 7th, The President DID declare Martial Law.  On November 8th, the President declared all former Military Personnel who did not voluntarily register themselves with the local Police were considered to be a threat and were to be arrested.

The cell network and the internet went down first.  Followed by heavily armed federal agents taking over all of the networks and even the local tv and radio stations.  Twenty four hours a day, on every station, you could only hear a continuous government broadcast.

Anyone who owned firearms had to register them immediately and get a firearm owner identification card.  You were only allowed to possess certain types of firearms, if your firearms were on the new banned list, you would be given a receipt, and after the emergency is over, you could reclaim or request reimbursement for them from the government.

My fiancee Bryan and I, weren’t going to turn in ours.  And he was worried about the order to register himself.  He was an Air Force Vet, and our Glocks and my Kel-Tec are on the banned list.  Our two Mossbergs weren’t, THEN.

We hid the guns that were on the banned list keeping out the Mossberg 500’s and the Taurus .38 my dad gave me on my 21st birthday, and the Charter Arms .38 dad gave Bryan when we announced our engagement.

November 22nd.  That was the day my life shattered.  I rode the bus home because we couldn’t get enough gas for his truck or my Toyota, so he would drop me at work in my Toyota, then go to work himself.  I would take the bus home and make dinner so it would be ready when he got home from warehouse.

I came home to huge armored trucks, Bryan called them emraps, blocking the entrance to our apartment complex.  Men all dressed in black with helmets and body armor, carrying M-4’s and shotguns, stopped me and made me show my ID and went through my purse and my backpack.  They questioned me about my pack.  “Why do you have a camouflage pack, where are your guns, do you have any knives”.  They kept me there for almost 45 minutes, while they went from apartment to apartment, with the property manager opening all the doors for them, when Bryan drove up.  In less than a minute, they had all pointed guns at him and dragged him out of the car then handcuffed him.  Screaming and shouting at him, “Why didn’t you register, where are your guns, do you have any explosives, who are you working with”  I tried to get to him, screaming at them that he was sick.  That was why he worked in the office at the warehouse, because of his nerve damage.  They didn’t listen and dragged me away.  I saw one of them hit Bryan in the back of the head the butt of his shotgun.  I started screaming louder and fighting with the two who were trying to drag me away.

I remember slapping one of them and kicking the other.  I tried to kick him in the crotch, but I only got the inside of his thigh.  And then I couldn’t remember anything.  I woke up in a cell.  Both hands handcuffed to the bars.  My head hurt and my vision was very blurry in my left eye.  I don’t know how long they left me there.  I do know that I had wet and defecated myself.  Several times.  I asked for help.  I screamed and shouted for water, a lawyer, anybody.  I think it was 3 or 4 days, when someone walked down the hall towards the cell I was in.  I could hear them, but I couldn’t yell.  My mouth and throat were so dry.  I could barely see out of my left eye, it was so blurry, and slowly going dark.

The person stopped just outside the cell, I heard a woman’s voice yell out something.  I remember the cell door opening, and someone saying something. 

That is all I can remember until I woke up in a white room, in a white bed, covered with a white blanket.  Both of my hands were strapped to the bed rails with thick leather straps.  There was something covering my left eye, and my head and whole body hurt like hell.

I then noticed there was someone in the room looking at me.

“Do you know why you are here?”  He asked me.

I tried to talk, but my voice sounded like my throat was full of sand and felt like it too.  The man called out for a nurse to bring me some water, and he told me that he would be back after my throat was softened up to talk.

The nurse, came in with 2 bottles of water and a straw.  I sipped the water slowly like she told me and tried to speak to her.  She looked at me with a stern look on her face and slightly shook her head, then looked across the room up into the corner.  I glanced over quickly and saw the box of a camera.  I slightly nodded my head back to her and continued to sip the water.

After I had drunk almost both bottles, the man came back into the room with a second man, carrying a briefcase.  They dismissed the nurse, and the first man sat down in the chair next to the bed, the other sat at the small table and laid his briefcase on it, opened it.  And took out a small something.  It was larger than a cellphone but smaller than a pack of smokes.  So I guess it was some type of recorder.

Then the questions started.

Why didn’t Bryan register himself?  Where are the 2 Glocks and the Kel Tec carbine, Bryan and I owned?  Why did I attack the officers who were trying to escort me?  When was the last time I had spoken to my dad?  Did I know where my dad was?  Where was my sister and her boyfriend Gerald?  Why? Why? Why?

I didn’t know what was going on, I just kept asking for a doctor and my lawyer. 

Constantly for maybe an hour, the man kept asking me the same questions over and over until I finally lost my temper and screamed at him that Bryan didn’t register because of the nerve damage he had from a car accident, we had sold the guns, no I didn’t know where my dad was, he had said he was thinking about going to Mexico before the election, my sister was supposed to be at school, then I shrieked that I wanted a lawyer and a doctor right then and there and I wasn’t going to talk to them anymore.

 The man looked over at the other man, nodded and then both got up and left.

I kept yelling for a nurse, a doctor and a lawyer for about 6 minutes when a nurse and two very large guys dressed in scrubs came in and they held me down and injected me with something.

When I next woke up, I was sitting in a wheelchair being wheeled out the doors of, I guess it was the hospital, and then up a ramp into some large van.  Then I passed back out.

My next wake up was in a wheelchair, inside a room with other people in wheelchairs.  All of them had IV’s running into their arms.  I turned my head, painfully, since I couldn’t see anything out of my left eye, and looked up.  Yup!, there was an IV bag.  I followed the plastic tube as it ran down and saw in my left arm there was a needle.  It looked strange, like it wasn’t my arm, it wasn’t attached to me.  I then felt a bump, and looked to my right, there was a large man in a white uniform doing something to my chair. 

I then found myself being moved out of the room and down a long hall.  The man pushing me turned at the end of the hall and a feeling of dread came over me.  I started hyperventilating and I was trying to scream.  The man pushing me stopped  suddenly and I heard him move behind me, I tried to look over and behind me since I couldn’t see out of my left eye, and I suddenly felt a coolness running through my left arm.

I woke up in a bed.  I wasn’t restrained.  I brought my hands to my head.  ALL OF MY HAIR WAS GONE!.  I had spent 8 years of carefully letting my hair grow out.  I felt scabs all over my head, and they were very sensitive.  There were dozens of them.  WHAT DID THEY DO TO ME!

I tried to count all of the scabs, but lost count after forty or so.  They covered my scalp and ran down the back of my neck, to just above my shoulder blades.  That was also when I noticed the bump.  A small irregular bump under the skin of my left temple.  I pushed on it and it moved slightly.  If I pushed too hard, shooting pains ran from it down my spine and my head started pounding as if it were going to explode.

Just what had they done to me?

Part One